


~Haunting~

by GrowLikeAPlant



Category: DCU, DCeased (DC Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Detectives, Haunted Houses, Multi, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 21:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowLikeAPlant/pseuds/GrowLikeAPlant
Summary: Tim Drake is made Bruce Wayne's new protégé. He quickly moves into Wayne Manor and begins his work beneath the World's Greatest Detective. Just as quickly, he realizes that something is very off about Wayne Manor. He's determined to discover exactly what it is.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Tim Drake & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. ~1~

Tim Drake's mother taught him how to hide his anxiety well. He recalls when he won an academic award at school. His principle had asked to give a small acceptance speech. Tim, 14 at the time, stood behind the stage curtain, shaking. He did not want to talk in front of so many people. As he tugged at his suit collar, his mother had given him a stiff smile. "Just remember to keep a smile on, my dear." She placed a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder.

"There are bound to be college scouts here. If you have a difficult time keeping your appearance together-" She took one of his sweaty hands in hers. "-dig your fingernails into the palm of your hand." Mrs. Drake smiled and kissed the top of her son's head, then smoothed his hair instantly afterwards. "The pain will focus you. Just remember not to drop your notes." Moments later, it was time for Tim to give his speech. His voice had been a bit shaky, but he hadn't messed up any words or let his smile falter for even a moment. The bottom of his white shirt sleeve had a bit of crimson blood on it by the time he was finished, though.

Since teenage Tim was riddled with anxiety, the tip quickly became a habit. Tim did it gently now, as he gazed out the tinted windows of the car. The usual smog of Gotham isn't quite as thick here at the edge of town. The sky, however, is still fairly grey. Tim's eyes flick ahead to where the driver is sitting. He sees Mr. Pennyworth's eyes gazing right back at him in the review mirror. Tim meets his gaze for a moment, before looking down at his hands. Mr. Pennyworth has been kind to him so far, although he doesn't seem too chatty at the time. Tim picks up his book that is sitting next to him on the leather car seat. The young man runs his slender fingers over the spine, before flipping it open to where he had left off at. He allows his eyes to scan the page, but he's not able to focus on any of the words printed before him. He turns pages of the novel though, knowing that he won't remember any of the paragraphs that he's skimming through.

The vehicle rounds a corner, then begins to slow down noticeably in speed. Tim looks up from the beige pages of his book. They are approaching a massive, English-style manor. Tim quickly ponders how ,any rooms it must have, and what on earth one would do with exactly how many that would be. There is an old yet secure looking iron gate that swings open to allow to car's passage. The lawn carpeting Wayne Manor is a lush shade of green. For a moment Tim wonders if it's artificial grass. He sees a glimpse of an automatic sprinkler in the ground shortly afterwards though, and figures it must not be. If Tim's mother was here, she would have rolled her blue eyes moments ago and critiqued the outdated architecture style. The Drake home was much more minimalistic. Not that they couldn't afford a more luxurious dwelling place if the Drake family had desired one, because they certainly could. Tim always thought that maybe a simpler home had been how Mrs. Drake tried to convince herself that she wasn't just another stone-cold member of Gotham's elite.

The vehicle stops, and Mr. Pennyworth comes around to open Tim's door for him. Tim steps out of the car slowly after adjusting his hair, tie, and watch. He thanks Mr. Pennyworth, then grasps the bag that had been placed in the trunk of the car. The young man had brought three bags. One of them contained his clothing and personal items, the rest all held books, notebooks, and his laptop. Mr. Pennyworth leads him into the manor. A gust of cool air hits Tim right as he entered through the doorway. Wayne Manor is stylishly decorated, but has the same feel as a hotel lobby. It is cool and impersonal. Tim's shoes tap against the marbled flooring as Mr. Pennyworth leads him into the living room area of the home. Looking out the large picture window, is Bruce Wayne. He turns as Mr. Pennyworth greets him.

"Hello, Master Bruce. Mr. Drake has arrived."

Bruce gives him a nod. "Very good Alfred. You may take Timothy's bags to his room. I'll show him up myself in a moment." Alfred nods. "Very good Master Bruce." He walks away into the seemingly endless manor, and Tim wonders if he'll ever be able to find his room himself. Bruce wears dark dress pants and a dark green sweater, somewhat similar to the heather grey one that Tim dons. He has one hand in his pocket, and he seems to be studying Tim. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Timothy." His voice is deep and has a cool tone. It's not unfriendly by any means, but it does not make Tim feel welcome. He takes a few steps closer to Tim and extends his hand. Tim shakes it firmly and tries his best to maintain eye contact with Bruce. "This home has been in my family for generations," Bruce continues. "I hope you can be comfortable here." The man releases Tim's hand from his grasp and studies his once again. This time, the ghost of a smile seems to be playing off of the man's lips. "I have to say, I have had a few apprentices before you, but I've never had anyone apply with.... blackmail material, if you will."

Heat creeps up Tim's neck and onto his cheeks, but he chuckles lightly. He even has a copy of all of the information that he'd sent to Bruce in one of his bags. His mind flashes back to the late nights he spent awake, tearing through books, articles, and scanning interviews that included Bruce Wayne or even a mere mention of the man in them. "Well Mr. Wayne, you could say I was a little bit determined." Determined was putting it very lightly. When Tim was eleven years old and had discovered that the famed detective that stood before him now had taken in a ward of sorts, he was dead-set on training under Mr. Wayne himself. Now as he stands before Bruce in his very own manor, Tim feels a surge of pride throughout him. He did it. He is going to learn from The World's Greatest Detective.

"Well I was impressed, Timothy. Now, you can follow me and I'll show to you to your room. You're welcome anywhere in the manor. I do, however, appreciate my privacy when I am in my in my study downstairs. Alfred will make you aware of where everything is."

Tim nods as they walk along. "I understand, Mr. Wayne." The hallways of Wayne Manor are long and cold. They are decorated methodically with portraits and lifeless abstract paintings. As they go deeper into Bruce's home though, Tim does notice that the house slowly seems to get a bit more personal. Pictures of family pets appear. He recognizes one of the portraits on the wall of Martha Wayne, Bruce's late mother. There's pictures of Bruce's first protégé, Dick Grayson, as both a young child and an adult. Tim even spots a small picture that includes Bruce, Dick, and the last ward that Bruce housed. His name escapes Tim's mind at the moment.

Bruce stops at a doorway and pushes it open. "Here's where you will be staying. The library is a little further down the hallway and then to your left. I thought you may enjoy staying close to that.

"I will appreciate that immensely, thank you Mr. Wayne." He steps into the room. It's well furnished in neutral colors with a king sized bed, ebony dressers and nightstands, and a massive desk. Tim sets his bag down on the bed and notices that Alfred has already placed his other bags with his personal items in the corner.

"Alfred will serve dinner in the dining room by the entrance in approximately two hours. You are more than welcome to join, and we can discuss your apprenticeship plan then."

Tim turns to face Bruce once again. "That sounds fine, Mr. Wayne. Thank you." He gives him a smile just to see what the man will do in return. The corner of Bruce's lips turn upwards, but it's nowhere close to a smile. His eyes are not unkind towards Tim, but they are most definitely standoffish.

"I'll see you at six, then." He turns and exists the room, leaving Tim alone.

The young man turns back to his bags. He rolls up the sleeves of his sweater and unzips his first bag full of books, and begins placing them on the empty shelves above the desk. Once he's finished with the books, he unpacks the clothing that he brought and begins hanging his dress shirts up in the large closet he was provided, and folding his trousers and placing them in the drawers. Tim then pulls his laptop out of his bag, and is about to place it on the desk, when he notices the edge of a book peaking out from underneath the bed.

"Huh," Tim says out loud to himself. "Could have sworn I put that one on the shelf." He leans over and picks it up, brushing some dust bunnies off of the hardcover with his fingers. After placing it back on the shelf, he goes back to unpacking his belongings. Tim debates for a moment if he wants to go check out the library around the corner or just relax. He decides on the latter, and flops down on the large bed he was provided. It has been a few days now since he's slept more than six hours a day. He feels his eyelids getting heavy, and quickly pulls out his phone to set a timer to go off so he won't sleep through dinner. He lets his phone fall down next to him on the bed once he's done, and Tim allows himself to fall into a light sleep. ~ 


	2. ~2~

When Tim awakes, it's to the sound of knocking. He curses as he shoots up from the soft bed. He instantly figures it must be time for dinner, and that he slept through his alarm. The sound of knuckles rapping on the heavy wooden door echoes harshly throughout his room as Tim makes his way to the door. With a turn of the doorknob, he pushes the door open, only to find no one there. The young man steps outside of the doorframe and peers down each side of the long corridor, only to find each surrounding sides entirely vacant. He walks down the hallway a bit, but there's not even an area that would be a good hiding spot. The alarm that Tim had set earlier is going off now, Tim can hear it well from where he stands, echoing loudly throughout the empty hallways. He rubs his eyes and tells himself that he really needs to start sleeping more. Maybe he's imagining things? He goes back into his bedroom. This time, he leaves the door partially open.

Reaching into his large new closet, he pulls out a light red dress shirt, and trades the sweater that he currently dons for it. He walks into the connected bathroom, which he then realizes he hasn't been in yet. There's a massive countertop, made from a dark stone that matches the furniture in the bedroom. The mirror that hangs above the sink is half as large as the countertop, and oval-shaped. Tim flips the light switch on and runs his fingers over his dark hair, smoothing it down. He hasn't cut his hair since his mother and father's funeral. That was two months ago. It had gotten rather long now. Tim figures in another week he would be able to put it into a ponytail at the back of his head. Dark circles ring beneath the young man's eyes. He has been sleeping a little better since he received the news that Bruce accepted him to be his new protégé. He went from getting two hours of sleep at the most to six. Tim flips the bathroom light off, and heads back into his bedroom. His shoes lay haphazardly by his bed, where he discarded them carelessly before his nap. He slips them on, and heads out.

He turns to his right and heads down the hallway. Tim figures his anxiety must be acting up a bit once again. He is very aware of his heartbeat in his chest, and his footsteps on the cold floor. Without even thinking about it, he begins to walk in time with his heartbeat. There's nothing to be so nervous about, Tim tells himself. He begins to think about the knocking on his door from earlier. Had he really simply imagined it? Tim doesn't recall imagining things much before, even at his most sleep-deprived times. Maybe the knocking wasn't on his door at all- maybe is was actually on his window. Maybe a tree branch was knocking against it due to the wind. Tim has never heard the wind knock something around in such a way that it sounds exactly like knocking, but he decides that it couldn't have been anything else. He reaches the dining room and takes a look around. It's just a bit brighter than the rest of the house. The walls are painted a crisp cream shade, the table is made out of a lightly colored wood. The chairs match the table, with forest-green cushions on them. Tim is instantly hit with the smell of something positively delicious, and his mouth begins to water. Bruce is already seated at the head of the table. His expression is stoic as Tim enters.

"Timothy," he greets him. "Were you able to get any rest?"

Tim nods as he sits in the seat that Bruce motioned him to, three seats down from Bruce on the left side of the table. "I was, thank you. The room you supplied me with is quite nice, thank you." He folds his hands in his lap and hopes that Bruce didn't notice how sweaty they are. However, he has the impression that the world's greatest detective was able to read his every emotion like a book the moment he entered the room.

"Of course," Bruce replies. His eyes are trained on the young man, even as Alfred appears carrying a large platter. Tim meets Bruce's gaze for a moment, then turns his eyes to the food that is on the platter. There's ham that looks perfectly tender, fresh green beans, salad, and even raspberry cheesecake for dessert. "Please help yourself, Timothy. Alfred is a most excellent chef, I am sure everything will be to your liking."

Tim feels some of his anxiety melt off his shoulders. Bruce really doesn't seem all that intimidating, he's just obviously a very private man. Tim doesn't blame him. He places two slices of ham onto his plate, along with a spoonful of green beans and salad. He waits to eat anything until both Bruce and Alfred are dished up, and then he digs in. Tim fights back a delighted groan as he tastes the ham. He doesn't recall ever tasting a ham so delicious. He must have made some sort of face of amazement, as Bruce and Alfred share a chuckle. This was the first thing that Tim had eaten that didn't come out of a microwave in nearly two months. As well-mannered as Tim tries to appear, he can't help but to shovel the meal into his mouth. Bruce and Alfred seem rather amused at this.

"I thought I recalled your father mentioning that your family had their own personal kitchen staff, Tim." Bruce remarks. "I'd met your family at a handful of charity galas."

Tim nods, but continues to chew his salad. Once he swallows, he replies, "We did. I let them go with one hefty last paycheck about five weeks ago. Plus my mother had been trying to get my father and I on a vegan diet for about the last two years, so my best meals were the granola bars I'd have for breakfast."

Bruce laughs at this, as does Alfred. "Master Dick instructed me to make vegetarian meals for a week." Alfred inputs. "Two days later, he was asking me to fry him some bacon." Bruce smiles a bit at the memory.

"Dick?" Tim asks. "Richard Grayson?" He recalls Bruce's first apprentice. "Yes," Bruce responds. "I'm sure you'll meet him in person soon enough, as he can only stay away from Alfred's cooking for so long. He's been doing work in Bludhaven recently."

"Oh, interesting. I would love to meet him sometime." Tim had seen a few of Dick's TV interviews, and read a bit about him during his research on Bruce. His detective works varied a bit from that of his mentor, but it was evident almost instantly that the young man was still extremely talented. 

Bruce passes Tim the raspberry cheesecake to Tim, and changes the discussion. "I would like to discuss your apprenticeship plan now. How long do you intend to work under me for?"

Tim plates himself a slim slice of cheesecake and cuts into it with his fork. He doesn't really have a plan for what he's going to do after he's finished working under Bruce, so he intended to milk to apprenticeship for all he can. Even if the that includes pretending to learn about things he mastered in the 6th grade. "I'm really not certain, Mister Wayne. Do you have a recommendation?"

Bruce places his silverware down on the table and looks thoughtful. "It's obvious you have already developed quite a bit of skill in the detective field. I'm confident you can even teach me a few things. Dick trained under me for about three years before he began to branch off a bit, but he had no sleuthing skills of his own when I took him in. Shall we say a year for now, and see how that works out?"

Eagerly, Tim nods. "A year sounds excellent, Mister Wayne. I'm truly honored that you're giving me your time." He takes a bite of his cheesecake. The look in Bruce's eyes is a strange one. His expression almost looks a little pained, but he gives the younger man a smile nonetheless.

"The pleasure is mine, Timothy. Also, you may call me Bruce."

Tim is all but grinning now. Finally, something in his life is going as planned. "Bruce it is." They continue to discuss arrangements for the next year.

Tim can come and go in and out of Wayne Manor as he pleases, but he is to be mindful of who he allows in.

"Some may call me paranoid, but if you plan to invite friends or colleagues over to the Manor on a regular basis, I would like to be informed so that I may perform a basic background check on them" Bruce states, giving Tim a serious look. "Dick was always very social and friendly, and many people that had plans to sabotage my work took advantage of his kindness and friendship to get to me. It's simply a precaution."

Tim gives an understanding nod. "That's entirely understandable and respectable, Mister-I mean, Bruce. I wouldn't consider myself a social butterfly by any means, but I will certainly be sure to inform you if I ever happen to make a friend." He means the last part as a bit of a joke, but Alfred gives him a bit of a sad look in return.

On cases, Tim is allowed to do as much research with whatever materials he desires. He is permitted to work on his own cases without Bruce if he wishes, but he must share the information and cases with Bruce. If Bruce ever deems a situation involving a criminal or case too dangerous for Tim to accompany him on, or for him to be working on individually, Tim is to mind his judgement. Any breach in that rule can result in immediate termination of Tim's apprenticeship.

"I'm very serious about this part, Timothy." Bruce warns in a serious tone. His body language reads tenseness, with his shoulders pushed straight back and his expression grim. "I'm very aware that just putting you in the position of my apprentice is already a bit of a risk. You may think of this position as simply a job, but in a sense, I am your guardian now. One of my top priorities is your absolute safety."

Tim's mind wanders to the fate of Bruce's last ward, the one he saw in some of the family photos. 

_Jason,_ Tim now remembers his name. He'd read countless articles and devoured hundreds of interviews about the young man's brutal death. Tim figures that it's more than fair for Bruce to be a bit paranoid about the safety of another protégé after the previous tragedy. 

Tim heartily agrees to all of this, and Bruce states that he'd like to draw up a contract and have Tim sign it in the future. Tim agrees to that as well.

They finish their dinner, discussing lighter topics. Bruce is going to give him a full tour of the manor tomorrow, and introduce him to all the softwares programs that he uses and such. Tim is already excited to see it all. Eventually, Bruce excuses himself and wishes Tim and Alfred a goodnight, and disappears into one of Wayne Manor's many corridors. 

Alfred offers Tim another slice of cheesecake, which Tim instantly agrees to.

As he digs into the delicious dessert, he asks the older man, "What's Mister Grayson like?" He wanted to hear someone else's perspective of the infamous first protégé of Bruce Wayne. 

Alfred's lips turn upward, and the look of love in the older gentlemen's eyes as he discusses the young man is unmissable. . "Master Dick is a vibrant young man. It's nearly impossible to not like him. He's simply magnetic."

"Did he enjoy Bruce as a mentor?"

"He did. They butt heads from time to time, but that is to be expected. Personally, I think he's doing wonderfully on his own in Bludhaven. Master Dick is anxious to meet you, he was thrilled to hear that Master Bruce was taking in another young ward."

Tim debates on if he should bring up Jason Todd or not. Despite all of the newspaper articles, videos, and documents that he had poured over, he still has so many questions that he knew no one but the Wayne family themselves could disclose answers to. He decides against it this time though. 

"How long did it take you to be able to navigate your way throughout this enormous manor without getting lost?" Tim asks instead, motioning to the large house that secludes them from the night air.

Alfred laughs heartily. "Oh, it look me plenty of time for certain. What was trickier though, was teaching Master Bruce to find his way throughout the house when he was a child. He would leave a trail of his toys behind him when he was about 5 or 6 years of age so that he could find his way back to wherever he was coming."

Tim lets a small smile play on his lips as he pictures that in his mind. Imagining the stoic man he'd met today as a lost toddler was definitely an interesting sight. 

"You must have been working for the Wayne's for a long time, then." 

"Oh, certainly." The man smiles. "Thomas and Martha were always kind to me and practically treated me like family before their passing. Master Bruce and I have always maintained a close relationship as well."

"That's wonderful." Tim says softly. Flashbacks of how cold his parents were to their hired help filled his mind. He tries to push them away just as quickly as they came. 

Alfred continues to smile softly, before standing up from his seat. "Well if you'll excuse me, Master Timothy, I shall finish clearing up the kitchen and then retire to my room for the night. I might suggest you do the same, as I'm sure Master Bruce has a busy agenda for you tomorrow, getting you acquainted with the Manor and everything it holds."

"Of course. Can I help you clean anything up? Everything was delicious and I immensely appreciate it." He stands as well. 

The older man shakes his head. "No, no. You go on to bed, this won't take me long at all."

"Well alright, if you insist. Again, I appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Master Timothy. I'm truly glad that you are here in Wayne Manor with us, and I know the Bruce is too, even if he is a bit difficult to read sometimes. Now, off to bed you go."

Tim smiles and nods. "Thank you." He wishes Alfred goodnight and makes his way down the dark hallways to his room. 

~

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for checking out the first part of Haunting! I've had this story rattling around my brain for a long time and have decided that it's time to get it typed out and shared. I'll try my best to get it completed in a timely matter.  
> Thanks again for reading!


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